


Where time and outward form would show ...

by rudeminnesotan



Category: Doctor Who (2005), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Torchwood
Genre: Bisexual Disaster Harry Potter, General Disaster Harry Potter, June Pride Month Prompt, M/M, Time Travel, and all it's problems
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:15:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25285957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rudeminnesotan/pseuds/rudeminnesotan
Summary: Harry's life is a little bit of a disaster, but he's kinda gotten used to it by now. He takes things as they come to him, and people as they come to him too. Also, he's constantly dodging a mad man in a blue box with a little bit of help from the man who could not die.
Relationships: Harry Potter/William Shakespeare, hinted Harry Potter/Jack Harkness
Comments: 4
Kudos: 80
Collections: Doctor Who, Harry Potter, Harry Potter Crossover Pride Month Challenge





	Where time and outward form would show ...

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter only.
> 
> Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.
> 
> AN: Don’t take this too seriously. I don’t.
> 
> Beta’d by Scarletdewdrops. 
> 
> ... ... …

... ... …

“You sure you can make it home, gov’?” The barkeep shouted to Harry as the wizard stumbled out of the establishment. He raised an arm and just grunted in reply before nearly falling out of the door of the pub. 

_‘Was there always a step there?’_ Harry thought to himself, body jerking with a hiccup as he stared at the ground. 

There wasn’t a step there. 

“Oh,” he said aloud then laughed a little bit and used his full palm to push up his glasses, something he regretted immediately as he began to stagger down the road. Palm + Glass = smudges. “Bloody fuck,” grunted the wizard, attempting to fix the smudges with a finger. 

Yeah, bad idea, didn’t really work buddy. 

“Fuck.” Harry found a good chunk of wall-- damp, from the recent rain-- and pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket to try to clean his glasses. 

His first problem? No handkerchief. This earned another verbal, “Fuck.” 

His second problem? When he tried to take off his glasses, he missed, and blunted nails clawed at his forehead. 

Ouch. 

At least the first problem was fixed easily. 

Or, so Harry thought. 

It’s never very advisable to use magic while completely sloshed. 

First, Harry made his way into the alley. “Simple conjuring, Harry, you can do this.” He narrowed his eyes at his wand, then realized it was a pen (where the fuck did that come from?) and attempted his pocket again. Three attempts later, (why did I let Hermione cast that spell on them?), and he had his wand. 

Now, things would have gone perfectly fine, to be honest, if Harry’s special cell phone in his pocket hadn’t gone off at the same time and distracted him. This, plus drunk magic, meant instead of creating a simple handkerchief-- which, if Harry had looked more closely, he would have found in his pants pocket instead of coat pocket-- but no. No. 

Magic solves everything right? 

So Harry got a portal that he stared at before it decided to suck him through and deposit him… somewhere. 

It also was quite the drain on his magic and he passed out once he landed. 

Or he was just too drunk. Could go either way. 

… … … 

“Sir… Sir? You really shouldn’t sleep here. Sir?” Someone was poking him. Harry didn’t want to be poked. So he swatted at the poking hand and decided to return to sleep. 

The voice chuckled at the attempt. “I guess I could help ye,” then Harry felt an arm reach around his waist and lift him to his feet. “Come on fellow, ye should help me by walking under yer two feet.” 

Harry gave that the grunt it deserved, but flexed the necessary muscles and helped himself walk. 

The next several minutes were a bit of a blur for the drunk wizard, but at least every step was slightly sobering. The little sleep probably helped. Maybe. Honestly, who knows? 

The main thing is that by the time Harry reached his destination with his human crutch, he was aware enough to realize that said man was quite handsome. And stated as such. 

“Hello, ye’self.” The man grinned in response, taking a moment to appreciate the view. Harry, swaying as he stood, did the same. 

The following conversation took place mostly with eyebrows, winks, and a salacious grin. 

And then the two men fell into bed together. 

… … … 

Harry woke up the next morning with a throbbing head and back and a warm weight at his side. None of these were very uncommon, so he rolled over to feel for his nightstand. 

Not finding it, he peeked open an eye and, after spying his coat, wandlessly summoned his wand then used that to summon his coat. Only then could he dig through the pocket to find a hangover potion. 

“Blessed potion of awful salvation,” Harry murmured before downing it in a single go. 

His bed partner, thankfully, slept through the entire display of magic. Harry quickly stowed his wand once he realized exactly where he was. It wasn’t just muggle, but ancient. “Oh fuck, where did I wind up?” 

“London,” came the muffled response of his bed partner, who turned his head enough to open one eye. “Good morrow.” 

“Good… morrow,” repeated the wizard, taking another look around the room and then back down at the man beside him. “Who are you?” 

This earned Harry a laugh and the man flopped in the bed enough to look fully up at the now sitting wizard. 

“Am I truly not recognizable?” 

Harry shook his head. “Am I?” 

The man shook his head, grin doing some very pleasant things to his features. Harry was curious if he would be willing to go a second round. 

“I’m William Shakespeare, nice to meet you.” 

… Harry was silent with a dropped jaw. “Really?” 

William fucking Shakespeare actually laughed. A rich, hearty chuckle which did very pleasant things to Harry’s insides. 

“Well, all right then.” Harry decided to listen to his insides and just went for it, kissing the other man and going for the round two that his libido declared it wanted. 

… … … 

It was several hours later when Harry finally decided to figure out how the fuck he wound up in Elizabethian England. Not that he minded if he was able to shack up with Shakespeare in the interim. 

Thankfully, it only took Harry a few days to figure out what happened (and what went wrong) to bring him here. 

Mostly, he blamed Jack. 

He hid from Ole Willy in the outhouse and pulled out that special cell phone of his and shot off a message to the never-dying man of Torchwood. 

The reply finally came through just as Harry heard the “VWORP VWORP” of the fucking TARDIS. 

“Oh fuck, if he finds me here he’s gonna be pissed,” Harry grumbled, glancing out from the door of the outhouse just in time to spot The Doctor running past. 

“And that’s my cue to exit.” Harry’s cell phone beeped through with his clearance and he twisted his wand. A new portal opened and out he popped, not collapsing and fainting on landing this time. 

The one and only Jack Harkness was waiting for him when he stepped out, the head of the Doctor peeking back through the portal just before it winked out of existence. 

“Hello, Darling,” Harry said to Jack, taking a step forward and taking a kiss. 

“Harry,” Jack replied as he returned the kiss, just a friendly greeting and nothing more. At least, not at this time. “Getting into trouble again?” 

“Trouble finds me, you know this Jack.” 

The former Time Agent just shook his head, wrapping his arm around Harry’s waist. “Well?” 

“Well, what?” Harry asked, eyeing the man next to him. 

Jack raised an eyebrow and grinned. “Is he as good as the rumors?” 

The wizard returned the look and slipped away, heading to the door. Before he left, he answered with a single word. 

“Better.” 

… … …

**Author's Note:**

> … … … 
> 
> AN: I don’t even know lol. 3am brain is the best. 
> 
> AN2: I swear I wrote this during June. June 25th, to be specific (or maybe the 24th). Anyway, my mouse was broken and then I had to write report cards for work and... yeah anyway better late than never.


End file.
